Coming To Grips Program At Washington State Offers Guidance For Grieving Pet Owners

To learn about grief, begin with Daun Martin’s eyes. Even after six months her emotional water table remains high and tears come easily when she reads the eulogy she wrote for Barney, her “once-in-a-lifetime dog.”

“It’s hard to imagine life without his physical presence. I know his spirit will always be with me to guide me through the good and the bad times…”

The Newfoundland-Bouvier mix who always sported a stylish kerchief died on Aug. 1 last year, but the grief ebbs and flows. Martin, an educational psychology doctoral student at Washington State University, says it’s all part of an important process for owners of pets, or “companion animals,” as she likes to call them.

“Who you are today is in part due to the relationship you had with that animal. You can get another animal, but you will establish an entirely new relationship with that animal.

“The real loss is the relationship you had with them. You became someone different because of that relationship.”

In an age where owning a pet may last longer than most marriages - and be more satisfying, some have argued - the loss of what Martin calls “unconditional, non-judgmental, positive regard” can be one of the most traumatic passages a person will ever make. Martin helps counsel pet owners, veterinary students, faculty and staff at People-Pet Partnership program, a part of WSU’s College of Veterinary Medicine. But unlike the $80 paid to mental health practitioners for an hour on the couch, WSU’s pet-loss counseling is free.

Consolation cards and books such as “Good-Bye My Friend” are part of the grieving arsenal used in the program. There is even a Pet Loss Packet that includes “thoughts by the human companions left behind,” such as these words from a woman whose dog died from lymphosarcoma: “What can I say about Fresno? He was a therapy dog at the nursing home long before there were therapy dogs. He helped me through my divorce and welcomed Tom with all the love, loyalty and devotion he shared with me.”

More complicated is the role of the veterinarian, who not only comforts the pet owner but also makes life-and-death decisions for the animal.

Veterinarian Veronika Kiklevich, instructor in the college’s Veterinary Teaching Hospital, has seen more than her share of what she calls “situations,” from the woman who wanted her cats euthanized because she had changed the color scheme of her house (Kiklevich instead found good homes for every cat), to couples who spend $15,000 to keep their pet alive for an additional few months.

Dr. K., as she is called, teaches her students not to hesitate to cross the line between counselor and veterinarian. Grief is part of the job.

“When students tell me they want to be a vet because ‘they love animals,’ I tell them, ‘People own animals. People are what we do. You must love people, too.”’

Sometimes how someone reacts to an animal’s terminal illness and death may have more to do with an unknown personal crisis than with a pet’s medical condition. When the attachment to a pet is too deep for her to understand, Kiklevich calls on other experts, as in the case of the couple whose strong reaction to their cat’s death was actually part of a larger sorrow they felt for their daughter, who had died recently in a car accident.

Or the woman whose brother was diagnosed with cancer the same time as her dog. In that case, Kiklevich prolonged the dog’s life more for the owner than for the animal.

“I’m blunt with clients,” Kiklevich says. “I tell them when I keep their animal alive for them rather than for the pet.

“I do that to buy some time, so the grieving process can begin.”

That type of “anticipatory grief,” sorrow before the actual loss, can intensify as the death approaches, according to “A Final Act of Caring,” a book by Mary and Herb Montgomery.

“Grief that intensifies over time interferes with the ability to be rational … so it’s not surprising that pet owners who are experiencing anticipatory grief often want veterinarians to decide when the time to euthanize has come.”

That decision comes with a range of options, even procedures that mirror human medicine. More and more, chemotherapy, kidney dialysis and even brain surgery are commonplace choices offered to pet owners to sustain an animal’s life. Kiklevich admits medical advances in prolonging human life have affected veterinary medicine, but the goals are different.

“The drugs that we use in cancer treatment prolong good quality of life with the animal but don’t necessarily make the animals terribly sick,” she says. “The goal is quality of life.

“With humans, doctors use a combination of drugs that make humans horribly sick but with the hope of curing them.”

Most of Kiklevich’s house calls are to perform euthanasia. She is especially sensitive to the pet owner when performing the procedure.

“I always prepare people for what is about to happen. For example, I give them a chemical explanation of how sodium pentothal works.”

If the animal dies at the hospital, she likes to take the pet owner into the clinic’s room to see the animal one last time for a sense of closure.

Another member of the family needs special attention, too: the remaining family pet.

“Some people like their other pets to see the animal deceased for their closure, too,” Kiklevich says. “I think it’s a good thing to do.

“Animals can become listless, lack appetite and search for the other animal. Cats may exhibit abnormal urinary patterns.

“Dogs may even become destructive.”

Kiklevich once had a German shepherd that began to eat large amounts of furniture and walls in a show of grief.

Martin and Kiklevich advise pet owners to make ritual, ceremony and even visualization a part of grieving.

“When you know your pet is going to die, start imagining what it will be like to be without him or her,” Martin says. “Instead of running away from the loss, visualize it.

“You may also need to tie up the loose ends in your relationship with your companion animal. Try to finish the unfinished business.”

Kiklevich adds, “Realize that it’s OK to grieve. A lot of people get in trouble when they put it off.

“It’s not just a pet. You are losing a strong attachment.

“And with children, don’t ever say that ‘Poopsie is going to sleep.’ They might think if they go to sleep they may never wake up. Don’t be anthropomorphic.

“Tell them it’s going to hurt here,” she says, placing a palm over her heart. “Let them draw a picture or write down their memories. Let them grieve, too.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Staff illustration by Bridget Sawicki

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: HOW TO GRIEVE Embrace the pain; don’t deny it. Write a journal or eulogy. Prepare a ritual. Talk about it. Find a good listener. Try to keep a routine. Don’t make any big decisions. Be honest with children.